


Fuzzy

by sallyamongpoison



Series: Da Capo: The Full Score [13]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cullen is amused, Dorian does a thing for charity, Dorian grows a beard, Facial Hair, M/M, Unrepentant Fluff, and is not thrilled about it, married life is full of silly things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-26
Updated: 2016-06-26
Packaged: 2018-07-18 07:15:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7304767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sallyamongpoison/pseuds/sallyamongpoison
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Dorian, after making a donation pledge to charity, is tasked with growing a beard for a month by Josephine. Hi-jinks ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fuzzy

It was supposed to be for charity. Well, no, there was no ‘supposed to be’ about it. It  _ was _ for charity. It was for a good cause, research for a blood disease out of a clinic in Nevarra City, and of course Dorian would participate. Then again, when he’d agreed to put his name in he’d figured it would be in the form of a cash donation or a check, or maybe even a cut of his paycheck. This? This whole...situation? This wasn’t at all what he’d signed up for.

“A whole month?” he’d asked Josephine, whose eyes were sparkling with mischief that did not align  _ at all _ with her diplomatic and high brow personality. Oh, she was crafty. Everyone thought Leliana was the sneaky one, but they should know better. Josie, for all her charming smiles and ability to talk with members of the Royal families to rustle up business, was tricksy. 

She nodded, “one whole month,” and folded her arms over her chest. The smirk she’d worn when she came down to Dorian’s office hadn’t shifted, and he had a feeling that the puppy eyes he used to sway Cullen wouldn’t work. Not on her.

“That’s cruel and you know it,” Dorian complained as he sat back in his chair and tapped the end of a pen against the arm of his chair.

“It’s for a good cause, remember?” Josephine pointed out, “and you agreed.”

“No, I agreed when I thought it was going to be some party where everyone cut a check.”

Josephine shook her head, still smirking, and a few loose waves fell over her shoulder as she studied the rather pouty looking man in the chair in front of her. “You’re getting off easy, you know,” she told him, “Solas has to sign up for that half-marathon and dress up.”

“That’s one day, and he walks everywhere anyway!”

“One month,” she repeated, and gave him a look, “and no trimming either. Oh, and I want a ‘before’ picture too, so we can have a side by side when it’s done!”

“Maker help me,” Dorian grumbled as she pulled out her phone. He pressed the heel of his hand against his forehead, squeezed his eyes shut as she fiddled with the phone in her hands and held it out.

“Smile!”

“I will not.”

But he did. Of course he did. It was for a good cause, and the picture only just showed off the fact that he was smiling to cover the grimace that was threatening to break out over his features.

\------

Week One, Day One:

Cullen was snickering. He was standing over a pan on the stove and snickering. Dorian was sitting at the table, grey eyes focused on where Cullen was laughing at him, and trying very hard not to pout again. He wanted to pout. He wanted Cullen to agree with him that this  _ wasn’t _ funny. It wasn’t funny. It was...it was...well, it wasn’t funny.

“So a whole month, then?” Cullen asked over his shoulder as he stirred the pan with a wooden spoon, “and is that...you know,  _ everything _ , or just,” his voice stopped then and his free hand gestured to his jaw.

Dorian rolled his eyes, “Well, it’s not like they’re going to get me out of my shirt to see, are they?” he asked, then sighed, “so no. I think I’d die of all the itching if that’s the case.”

Cullen turned, a smile on his face, and he closed the short distance to bend down and kiss Dorian’s lips, “Well, I think it’s nice that you’re doing it at all, even if I have to listen to you complain about it.”

“Not helping,” Dorian mumbled against Cullen’s lips before he kissed him again.

The hand not holding the spoon lifted and Cullen cupped Dorian’s face. He brushed his thumb against his cheek, let it rub from the mark just under Dorian’s eye and down to his jaw, then smiled. “I can’t wait to see this,” he said, “my husband. My husband with a  _ beard _ .”

“You’re loving this entirely too much,” he whined, though he couldn’t help the little smile that was tugging the edges of his lips upward. He couldn’t be mad at Cullen, couldn’t help but laugh with him, and honestly...maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

He picked his razor up out of habit in the shower that night, and sighed when he put it back.

Week One, Day Four:

It had been another three days, and while it had been  _ hard _ Dorian was starting to think it wouldn’t be so bad. Oh, he looked terrible, since the in-between times of being clean shaven and having the beard were awful...but he could do this. Actually it was nice to not have to spend the extra time in the shower to shave, and even though he was starting to look a little bit more like a hobo than he wanted it seemed like this was going to be an easy time of it.

He was practically humming as he poured his coffee into his mug that morning, which made Cullen raise an eyebrow as he stumbled from the bedroom to the kitchen. Dorian smiled, turned to kiss his husband’s similarly stubbled cheek, and laughed as he rubbed their rough jaws together. It was stupid, he knew that, but it was amusing to see the look on Cullen’s face as he did it.

“Careful, you might start a fire doing that,” Cullen teased, and wound his arms around Dorian’s waist to hug him for a moment, “and you’re entirely too happy this morning. Something special in that coffee?”

“Just in a good mood,” Dorian replied as he leaned back against that solid form. He still loved it when Cullen was so sleepy, and though it might make him a bit late he liked to take a few of those long moments to enjoy this kind of thing before they had to go and be productive for the day.

He felt the disbelief in Cullen before he turned to see him giving a bit of a look, “A good mood before ten? Maker, are you feeling alright?” Cullen asked as he lifted a hand to press against Dorian’s forehead, “no fever, but...you’re okay?”

“I’m  _ fine! _ ”

“Mm hmm, sure,” Cullen said as his hand lowered to rub over the scratchy stubble that covered Dorian’s chin and jaw, “this might be driving you a little mad, if you ask me.”

“Oh, you like it,” Dorian laughed, “you can’t stop touching it.”

“No, I can’t stop touching  _ you _ , there’s a difference.”

It was going to be an easy month. Of course it was going to be. He’d had some pretty radical facial hair in the past, after all, and he’d lived. Long hair, too. This was easy. It was going to be fine. Maker help him too, if Cullen liked it then he might consider keeping it around for a little longer than just for the month.

Maybe. 

Until, of course, he went to work and as he stood in wait to get coffee Solas playfully dropped a sovereign in his empty mug. The bastard.

\----

Week Two, Day Three:

He regretted everything. He regretted possibly every decision he’d ever made that led him to this point. Dorian glared at a rather smug looking Josephine from across the table in the meeting room, and lifted a hand to rub at his itching jaw. It was terrible. The whole thing was terrible. He looked terrible, felt terrible, and everyone was so  _ fucking _ amused by it. He was annoyed, so annoyed, and he just wanted it to be over.

“I’m fucking shaving it off,” Dorian complained that night. They were both in the bathroom: Dorian post-shower and Cullen was actually filling the tub for a bath. The room was warm from the steam, smelled like soap, and Dorian was doing his best to rub some of the oil he’d bought to help make this beard look a bit better into the hair that covered his face.

Cullen looked up from where he was picking between the few bath bombs they had stored under the sink and cocked an eyebrow, “It’s for charity, though. You can’t shave it off.”

“I’m going to fucking do it. This is stupid and it’s just a way to make me look like a fool in front of everyone. Maker forbid I try to look nice most of the time, so now they want me to look like some...I don’t know,  _ werewolf _ because they think it’s funny!”

His husband sighed, got to his feet, and turned to cup Dorian’s face in his hands, “You do  _ not _ look like a werewolf, love,” Cullen told him, “maybe a...were _ fox _ or something? Not a wolf. It’s not that bad yet.”

Dorian tried to swat Cullen’s hands away, “That’s absolutely not helping,” he whined, “and if you’re going to make fun of me too, then I’m definitely going to shave it off.”

“No,” Cullen argued as his fingers worked to rub and scratch at the coarse hair that grew along Dorian’s cheeks, “it’s...I like it. You look good all fuzzy.”

“Fuzzy?!”

“Ruggedly handsome?” Cullen tried again with a hopeful smile, “come on. It’s always bad before it gets better. You know that.”

“I do not, and I’m taking a belt sander to my face tomorrow.”

“You will not.”

“I will,” Dorian complained again, though with just a bit less vigor than before, “I hate it and I hate Josephine for doing this to me.”

“It’s two more weeks. You can make it two more weeks.”

“No. I can’t,” he sighed dramatically as he capped the jar of oil and pouted, “I’ll be dead and it’s all thanks to this facial hair leeching the life out of me.”

\----

Week Three, Day Two:

The beard was coming in much fuller and less coarse now. It filled out his face in a much nicer way than it had the last couple of weeks, and looked more like it was on purpose instead of him just being lazy and not shaving. It framed his jaw, covered his cheeks, and made it difficult to curl the ends of his mustache like he liked it. It was terrible. It was terrible, but everyone seemed to like it.

Dorian sat on the couch with his head in Cullen’s lap. Usually they sat the other way round, but for now he was enjoying how Cullen’s fingers went through his hair and soothed him. He felt...he felt  _ ugly _ like this. Of course Cullen argued otherwise, said he rather liked the change, and every so often Dorian would practically purr for how those thick fingers would rake down his cheek to ease some of the itching that lingered. That was...okay.

It was also  _ hot _ . He sweated more across his brow than he had in years because it rather felt like he had a carpet attached to his face. Dorian liked being warm, of course he did, but he hated this constant feeling of itchy heat that seemed to be constant. It made him tired. Explaining why he was doing this over and over again to clients and anyone who asked made him tired. All for some stupid...charity bet. He could have just  _ donated, _ after all. Why did everyone feel like this was some sort of fitting punishment for him? It wasn’t fair.

Week Three, Day Six:

Dorian nuzzled his face in against Cullen’s neck. They’d spent most of the evening in bed, catching up with each other like they tended to do on the weekend. He was blissfully sore, happily tired, and just wanted to be as close to his husband as he could. Both he and Cullen were breathing hard, and he so wanted to just press kisses over Cullen’s pulse, but as he leaned in for it Cullen squirmed and laughed and tried to move away.

“What?” Dorian demanded as Cullen lifted his hands to rest on Dorian’s shoulders to keep him from getting closer.

He was still laughing, shook his head so blond curls fell across his forehead, then cupped Dorian’s face in his hands, “It’s nothing!” he laughed, “just...you know, it tickles. On my neck.”

So even now the fucking beard was keeping him from being able to do what he liked when he was in bed with Cullen. The fucking thing made his husband push him  _ away _ , and that made his heart sink. Of course Cullen kissed him, tried to soothe him, but Dorian just got to his feet and headed for the shower. Maker, he was so done with this. Even if Cullen was okay with it, even if he was being good natured about how it  _ tickled _ (and not in the good kind of way) he was done. 

The end of the month couldn’t come soon enough.

\----

Week Four, Day Five:

“Please, can this just be over?” Dorian practically begged as he followed Josephine from her office, “Ha ha, it’s all very funny that I have a beard now. It’s been a month. Let me just give you the money so I can get rid of it. Please?”

“There’s still a few more days, Dorian,” she pointed out, “and it’s not that bad. It looks good on you! And Cullen loves it, you said so yourself! Why are you still complaining about it?”

He rolled his eyes, “I’m not complaining!”

“Oh, really?”

“Okay, so I am, but it’s been four weeks. Please, it’s driving me insane! I’ll...add more to the donation pledge.”

“No,” Josephine said firmly, “Keep it until the party. Then you can do whatever you want, but...maybe you should keep it? It sort of suits you, you know?”

“It does  _ not _ .”

“It does. Ask Cullen, I’m sure he’d say the same thing.”

“Another two hundred? Please? And I’ll...cover the intern shifts in the archives for two weeks.”

“Until the party. You can do it.”

\----

Week Five, Day Two - After the Party:

Cullen wound his arms around Dorian from where he was curled up against his husband’s back. They’d been up late, out at that charity party for Dorian’s work, and Cullen had been so proud to see Dorian stick it out. Dorian was rather proud too, which was one of the first thoughts that struck him as he felt that warm weight against his back. This was the kind of thing his parents would have pitched a fit over when he was younger, then given him shit for giving up halfway through because it was uncomfortable.

“Morning,” Cullen mumbled into his ear before he kissed at Dorian’s hair, “sleep in for a bit?”

Dorian rolled over in his husband’s arms and buried his face in at Cullen’s chest. That was nice, and the way those arms tightened around him was even nicer. Cullen didn’t laugh, didn’t squirm away, and huffed happily as Dorian rubbed his face against his skin. That was something Dorian liked.

He mouthed warm kisses over Cullen’s heart then kissed his way back up Cullen’s neck to his lips. They stayed like that for a long few moments, just kissing and breathing together, and Cullen smoothed a hand up Cullen’s back to run along Dorian’s neck before it brushed through the thick hair that covered his face. That really did feel nice. Maybe, for all his complaining and feeling sorry for himself, there was something to this. It was a nice change. Maybe not a  _ permanent _ one, but a nice one for a little while. 

“You still like it, hm?” he asked softly.

Cullen nodded and gently scratched his fingers through it before he leaned in for a kiss, “I love it,” he replied, “and I love you.”

Maybe he’d keep it. He’d have to trim it up and make it acceptable, but maybe...just maybe...he’d keep it. For a little while. Just because.   
  


**Author's Note:**

> come find me on tumblr! @sallyamongpoison


End file.
